


A Prize to be Won

by ceryss



Series: A Flower Crown [7]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 14:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1651982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceryss/pseuds/ceryss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four years after Sandor Clegane left King's Landing, and his job as Sansa's sworn shield, he receives a letter from his little bird.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Prize to be Won

**4 Years Later**

Sandor read the letter again for the fifth time.

The first time he opened the parchment sealed with the gray direwolf of the royal house, he assumed it was from the young King Robb. After all, every other letter had been from the king who was once playing with a wooden sword by Sandor’s feet. The Young Wolf wrote to Sandor occasionally, considering Sandor Clegane the sworn shield was now Lord Sandor Clegane of Clegane Keep. His elder brother Gregor had raised banners for the Lannisters, and had paid for it with his life.

The new Lord Clegane had been handsomely rewarded for his service in the rebellion turned war. He had led the charge of Stark men through the Westerlands, until finally seizing Casterly Rock and forcing a surrender. The Lannisters and all who rallied behind them, most prominently the Tyrells, were now under the scrutiny of the crown at all times, and an adequate amount of wards were taken hostage to ensure allegiance. It had taken far longer than anyone had predicted, and Westeros was now in its third year of winter.

Yet the Starks hadn’t come out of the war unscathed. The beloved King Eddard had lost his life in an assassination, and Queen Catelyn and Prince Robb barely survived the attack. When Sandor had heard from word of mouth about the coup that took place at King’s Landing, his thoughts rushed to his little bird. It was only when word of her safety reached his ears that he called off the return of his men back to the capital. He told his men it was news of the Queen’s survival that stayed his action, but he knew deeply that that was a lie.

His little bird. How he ached for her smiles.

News had spread throughout the realm as the war progressed of her loveliness. It was said that she had grown into a radiant beauty, a perfect copy of her queenly mother. She would be seven and ten now, Sandor knew. But despite her age, Princess Sansa Stark had not married -- that was talked about just as much as her beauty. It seemed every lord, knight, and common boy held out a hope that it was secretly them the princess lusted after, and that was why she held off on giving away her hand. One day she would announce before the world her secret lover, and refuse any but him.

There were rumors that the princess was in love with a simple serving boy at the capital, or that she was actually a true direwolf, and thus could never marry a human man. Ridiculous bullshit, Sandor always said when he heard such tales. Though Sandor still wondered what the true reason was. He hoped maybe she was just being cautious after almost have been given over to Joffrey.

But now, sitting in his own chambers, reading the crisp letter over and over again, Sandor couldn’t help but hope that he had discovered the true reason for her refusal of marriages.

It read:

_Dearest Lord Clegane,_

_How long it had been since I have had the joy of your company. Each day throughout the war I prayed for your good health and safety. It seems the gods have looked down upon me fondly, as they have watched over you and ensured your good fortune._

_I have written this letter a hundred times all ready -- half in my mind, and the other half on discarded attempts. I have tried coming across as coy, as subtle, even an interesting attempt at “seductive.” Yet I realized that it was to you I was writing to, my good friend and protector, rather than a strange high lord. Discovering this fact, that you are still (hopefully) my gruff and generally unpleasant Hound, made the words flow much easier._

_So I will get to the point Sandor, as I remember how much you preferred brevity. I am sure that you received an invitation to the tourney that is to take place in my name at King’s Landing in a few months. Every lord in Westeros has received the same. And if you have received such a letter, you would know that the prize for the victor of this tourney is not a large sum of gold, but rather my hand in marriage._

_I can almost imagine your indignation at receiving that invitation. Most likely you called me a “stupid little bird,” once more, questioning my sanity and wondering why I would agree to such a proposal when anyone could end up in the victor’s spot. Any lord may send forth a champion to win me to him._

_Which is why, my dear shield, it seems I need you to save me once more. Surely, you could not allow your dearest Sansa to be given off to anyone unworthy. I am smiling as I write this, knowing that you are frowning. If I am not mistaken, I once remember that a man by the name of the Hound was the fiercest warrior in the land. Winning one tourney would not be too hard of an act for one so accomplished as yourself._

_After all, if you do not win, I hear that Tyrion Lannister is sending a sellsword to claim me. That would be quite the scandal, would it not?_

_I will see you at the tourney, Sandor Clegane._

_Faithfully, Your little bird_

 

To say Sandor had been alarmed by the letter was an understatement. Yes, of course he had been given a formal invitation to the tourney only a week prior, and had reacted exactly as she had predicted. What kind of foolish girl allows the entire realm to be a possible suitor? She had countless lords and their heirs begging at her feet; she could have chosen any of them! Yet she decides on a tourney, leaving it up to fate?

After reading her words nigh on a dozen times, however, Sandor is closer to understanding, if not truly believing her motives.

The little bird wanted _him_ to win?

And by win, of course, that implied that he would marry her himself. Truly that could not have been what she was implying? Perhaps Sansa merely realized her mistake at choosing herself as the prize, and wished for him to put a stop to the sham.

But her words did not hint at that, in fact it seemed as though she were almost _taunting_ him. Dangling a juicy bone in front of the Hound, knowing that he could not refuse it. Her confidence in the fact that he would not only participate, but win the tourney left Sandor unsure how to feel. On one hand it was presumptuous, the little bird acting as if he were her forbidden love. Considering her head jammed full of songs, Sandor did not find this unlikely.

Yet on the other hand, it was...warming. There was no other way to describe the heat he felt from her assurance in him, her trust, and her....interest. Seven hells, did she write that she tried to be “seductive” with him? What did _that_ mean?

Sandor must have stared at that letter for an hour, trying to decipher all possible meanings from her words. Unbidden, memories of his sorrow over losing her flashed through his mind. The ache of not knowing if she was safe, the constant worry over if she was happy, and then the pain of knowing she had lost her father without her shield there to have comforted her. The rage he had felt when he heard his men speaking of her in vulgar terms, and the satisfaction of seeing them punished.

He could admit to himself that he missed his little bird desperately. He missed the way she looked him in the eye, saw the mess that was his face, and was still kind. He missed her hair of fire, and her laughter of a thousand bells. It was this thought, the thought of merely seeing her smile at him again, that caused him to pack up his things and ride for King’s Landing three days later.

...

 

When Lord Clegane arrived weeks later, with the sun setting and the whores coming out for their night-shift, a thousand memories came flooding back to him. When he smelled the port, he saw the Stark children running by the bay, swimming and laughing. When he heard the calls of vendors overlapping each other like the flapping wings of a flock of birds, he heard Sansa pleading with him for an extra cake.

Though he looked for a flash of red hair as he was let into the Red Keep, the little bird alluded him. The King’s steward received him coldly and brought him to a wing of the Keep reserved for noble guests of Sansa’s tourney. The room was adequate, with two long windows letting in a brilliant light of the dying day, a single bed adorned with gray and white coverings, and a small wooden desk. He ordered for some wine, and sat by the window, blindly observing the city while his thoughts fought inside of his head. The tourney was to begin in a week’s time, and Sandor still was unsure whether he should participate.

There was a knock at the door, breaking him from his thoughts, and he went to answer it. He expected a serving girl with a flagon wine, but what he found instead was far superior.

Before he could speak, Sansa Stark stepped into his room and shut the door softly behind her. When she turned to face him again, the breath left Sandor’s lungs. She was tall now, very tall for a lady. Her dress was light gray and modest, but could not hide that she was a woman, all curves and secrets. Her fiery hair fell in soft waves to her waist, and her skin was the color of fresh cream. Sansa was everything the songs had said and more, her sparkling blue eyes smiling as they met his. Her chin was held high even though a slight blush covered her cheeks. The only adornment she wore was a thin silver circlet on her head, making her appear as a queen of winter from stories of old.

Then, a word: “Sandor.” It was spoken softly, and was caressed as though it were a fine delicacy. Without pause, she was in his arms then, laughing and clutching him close to her. Sandor held her tightly, laughing with her despite himself, and had no more doubts about why he had come. _His little bird_.

“I’ve missed you,” she said into the crook of his neck. “I’ve missed you so, my Hound.”

“I told you I would come back, little bird.” He responded simply, enjoying holding her close and feeling her breaths on his neck.

“Yes,” she agreed, pulling back and wiping at her eyes, still smiling. “Yes, and here you are.”

She looked as though she was about to throw herself back into his arms, so with painful regret that he could not feel her body against his own once more, Sandor stopped her by asking, “What game are you playing at, girl?”

Sansa opened her mouth to speak but closed it again, blushing and looking toward her feet. Gruffly, Sandor tipped her chin up to force her to look at him. Her blue eyes widened, though not in fear, he noticed. She seemed to be relishing in being so close to him, a thought that both thrilled and frightened Lord Clegane. He dropped his fingers at once. “I thought I left you smarter than this, stupid little bird. How could you offer yourself up as some damned prize? Think that’s bloody romantic, do you?” He barked a harsh laugh. “You’ll surely find it romantic when you are given away to an elderly lord who won you through his _sellsword!"_

Though he growled at her, Princess Sansa seemed unfazed by his speech. She cocked her head to the side and asked, “Was my letter not clear enough?” 

He gazed at her warily, eyes narrowed, unwillingly to be the first to speak of any affection between them. There couldn’t be any, could there? 

“My lord...” she began, wringing her hands together and blushing once more. “House Clegane is by all means valued in the eyes of King Robb and the crown, but truly you cannot believe that my brother would give me away to such a lesser house. A princess of Westeros is meant for more.” 

Sandor clenched his fists and jaw, hating himself for being wretchedly disappointed. How could he have let himself hope? Hope that his little bird could truly be his, that her kingly brother would want him for her, bloody hells, that she would really desire a scarred hound? That was the truth then. The girl had gotten herself into a mess and needed her sworn shield to clean it up. Gods, he should’ve known. 

Sensing his frustration, Sansa gathered his hands into her own. They were small and delicate, while his were criss-crossed with silver scars. “Which is why, Sandor...the tourney is the only way that Robb would agree. He made a promise to the lords of Westeros, to his bannermen, and even if a lowly Lord of Clegane were to be victorious...well, he would have to go through with the marriage.” She smiled at him then, a shy smile. 

It was the first time in a long while that Sandor Clegane was speechless. Her letter was true, and he was not a fool. Princess Sansa, the little bird, wished to be his. 

She interpreted his silence as hesitation, and blushed nervously. “I would be a good wife...my mother taught me very well on how to manage a household, and I’m sure Clegane Keep would not be too much for me to handle...and I...I would love you Sandor, very much. I always have, you know.” 

Unsure of how to answer her with words, though quite aware of how he felt, Sandor pulled her to him then, hands wrapped around a delicate waist, and claimed her mouth. She let out a squeak of surprise before melting into his embrace, arms encircling his neck and pulling him closer. After an immeasurable amount of time, Sandor pulled away, smirking at her flushed cheeks and swollen lips. She was beautiful, and she was to be his. 

“I will win the tourney for you, little bird, have no worries about that.” A joyful grin spread over her face then, and with a girlish giggle, she kissed his scarred cheek and ran from the room, skirts billowing behind her. 

Sandor Clegane stared at the door for a long time after she had gone, allowing something akin to hope to settle in his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone for being so patient. Your kind words always make me smile :)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the update!


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